


Dyed Lilies

by theoncomingwolf



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Femslash, triplets not clones au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 20:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4194264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoncomingwolf/pseuds/theoncomingwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cosima's determined to score a date with the hot French woman attending her sister's wedding. - not clones AU - Cophine and background Lumberpunk</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dyed Lilies

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted to me by leftpawedpolarbear on tumblr and written ages ago. One of my favorite stories I've written upon reread.

It’s a big day; her sister’s getting married.

With Alison bound to her high school sweetheart of debatable sweetness and Sarah soon-to-be wed, Cosima is left as the only single triplet. Doubly single, in fact, since she hasn’t even been on a date in a couple of months.

She’s happy for them, of course- well, Sarah at least- but she can’t shake a certain sense of loneliness that has been following her around lately. Cosima’s not offended that Ali was picked over her for Maid of Honor- Felix, the gay man Sarah’s as close to as her sisters, turned down the only-half-joking offer and it would be suicide to pick Cosima over Alison- but the god-awful pink scraps of fabric she picked for the bridesmaids dresses are not helping to improve her mood. Felix, looking spiffy in his thin-cut tux and skinny pink tie, does nothing but laugh when he encounters Cosima trying to help Sarah dress. Cal, nice guy he is, picked Felix as his best man so Sarah could still have him as a key player in her wedding, demoting his own friends to groomsmen.

Her stomach is full of butterflies when it’s time for the ceremony, despite the fact that she’s not the one getting married; Sarah, by contrast, looks surprisingly calm when they leave her to walk out first. 

Cosima gets walked down the aisle by Tom, Cal’s college roommate. He’s cute, and has been hitting on her for all of this wedding stuff, whenever he was able to leave Cal’s side, but not really her type and so not getting the hint. He winks at her as they arrive at the front; she shakes his arm off of hers. 

Cosima turns her head away at Felix’s amused eyebrow raise, scanning the crowd. Some old people, some punks, Alison’s neighbor Aynsley- Cosima’s not sure how she got invited- Cal’s parents… and a slamming hot woman with gorgeous blonde curls. Hello…

She’s pulled away from her staring by Alison bumping her shoulder to call her attention; not fooled by the reason for her fixed gaze, her sister gives her a slightly judgmental look for getting distracted at such a time and nods her head towards young Kira, who is waddling down the aisle with bunches of flowers held in her clenched fist. It’s unbearably cute, but when Kira joins them at the front, she finds her eyes wandering once more. So it goes for the rest of the ceremony, during the less interesting bits such as bible verses and Cal’s grandmother reading a poem. The woman catches her looking more than once, smiling in amusement each time before looking back to Cal and Sarah.

They kiss and it’s official.

Cosima needs to find a date- and she knows just where to start. 

The woman’s name is Delphine, according to Cal, a scientist he met in his engineering days. 

She’s French. Hnnnng.

“Is she seeing anyone?” Sarah asks, for her, catching Cosima’s true intentions.

“Oh uh, I don’t think so,” Cal says; Cosima practically sees his eyes light up as he realizes why Sarah is asking, “but I’ve only known her to date guys, Cosima.”

Discouraging, to say the least, but Delphine’s single and at a wedding- if she ever has a chance with a straight girl, this is it. Not only do weddings breed a special brand of desperation, Doctor Cormier is the lucky winner of a certain bouquet that Sarah tossed earlier. And dating guys does not necessarily equal straight, thanks to a wonderful thing called bisexuality.

“Thanks Cal, Sarah, congratu- Frick!” Cosima holds off on her felicitations for a moment as she sees Tom, with his stupid hair and handsome face, sauntering towards her new mark, “call your dumb friend off Cal!”

The newlyweds turn their heads in the direction of Cal’s dumb friend, who has positioned himself extremely close to the scientist. She’s smiling; curse him.

Cal, who is quickly becoming one of Cosima’s favorite people, jumps into action to subtly shoo his friend away from Delphine, leaving her alone, once again, at the punch table.

“Hmm,” Cosima observes, “nice pick, he’s a keeper.”

“You bet,” Sarah says, pushing her lightly in the direction of the blonde, “but he’s mine, get your own.”

She gives her sister one last hug and congratulations before doing exactly that.

-

Delphine watches Tom get pulled across the room by the groom; he was nice, while they could talk, if coming on a bit strong. She presses her nose into the bouquet of flowers once more, to pick up the pleasant, albeit faint scent, unsure if it’s rude to ditch them somewhere so she doesn’t have to carry them around all night.

It’s not like she’s next to wed anyway. She likes the thought, if not for that ever-present logic that goes hand in hand with the science he has devoted her life to.

“Nice night,” greets the woman who slides up next to her to grab a glass of unnaturally red liquid; she ladles the punch into a glass and swishes it around, but does not drink.

She looks, oddly enough, simultaneously similar and dissimilar to the bride. The facial features are familiar, but Delphine thinks if she had not just had the opportunity to stare at Sarah’s face for a good while, she would not have recognized this woman as being the sister of someone she knows. She has met Sarah only once before, for the practice, and some mixture of Cosima’s look and personality- the glasses and dreads mixed with the totally different way she carries herself- make her look like a completely different person.

Well… she is of course. It would be an interesting study of nature vs nurture, Delphine thinks, if only someone had gotten a hold of these children earlier in life.

Up close, where she can see her face a bit better, the woman- Cosima, she recalls- does look a bit more like Cal’s new wife, though Delphine remembers her more as the bridesmaid who could not seem to stop staring.

Cosima takes a sip, finally, grimacing almost imperceptibly at the taste .

“I think Felix spiked the punch,” she mutters, moving it towards Delphine as if to offer a sip.  
“What, like alcohol?” Delphine asks, “Non! There are small kids here!” 

Cosima looks to Kira, clinging to her mother’s leg, and to Gemma and Oscar, wreaking havoc on poor Aynsley. She shrugs, takes another sip.

“Guess we’re on punch duty,” she says, lowering her voice an octave even though it’s herself she’s imitating, “buzz off, kids, no fun red sugar drink for you.”

“That’s alright,” Delphine giggles, “it will stain their nice clothes, anyway. People use Kool-Aid to dye clothes, oui?”

“I think that only works on wool,” Cosima says, “you think they’re serving Kool-Aid punch at a wedding? Is there no, like, fancy punch for things like this?”

“Magnifique-Aid?”

Cosima laughs, loudly; she huffs out a breath with a gentle woosh as she realizes her volume and takes a gulp of the hard punch.

“The French was a nice touch; French is like, extra fancy,” Cosima says; Delphine, being French, is not sure how to take the revelation that she is extra fancy.

“Hey,” Cosima continues, leaning over to pinch a flower from Delphine’s bouquet between two of  
her fingers, “using this?”

Delphine shakes her head, no, and Cosima pulls the white lily away from its brethren. She dumps it, head first, into her punch, letting it sit as if the action was not strange at all.

“To see about the dyeing,” Cosima explains, “though this might not work; waxy cuticle that first allowed plants to move from bryophytes to land plants such as angiosperms and pteridophytes by retaining liquid without the use of constant water to eliminate the need for retention or turgor pressure.”

She lets the odd spew of information sit for a moment, glancing at Delphine out of the corner of her eye.

“Uhm,” Delphine says, “yes.”

“I’m trying to figure out what kind of scientist you are,” Cosima says, “I figured you might be into plants since Cal digs bees.”

“Ohhhh,” Delphine hums, “Immunology, actually. Not particularly into plants, unless they are being ground up for medicine.”

“Immunology?” Cosima says, “Why were you working with bee dude?”

“I was not,” Delphine laughs, “we worked in the same building though. Another scientist introduced me; he’s into plants- and would probably be impressed by your knowledge, actually, where did you get that?”

“Oh I’m Evo Devo; getting my PHD,” Cosima explains, pulling the flower from her cup; it drips red liquid, but does not appear to have been particularly stained, “it seems the alcohol had no effect on dissolving the waxy cuticle. We’ll have to run more tests.”

“Probably longer ones,” Delphine suggests. 

Cosima is rather impatient for a scientist; there is not much waiting that can be done in a field like Evolutionary Development, she supposes, or so much that it is not worth waiting for.

“Hmm,” Cosima agrees, “and more liquids, like maybe wine at my place around 7 tomorrow; coffee at a later time…”

It takes Delphine a moment to realize that she’s being invited over, if only due to the strange way the invitation was presented.

“Sure,” she agrees; she needs more friends, after all, and Cosima seems nice, “we should definitely hang out.”

—-

I’m hitting, on you, dammit, Cosima thinks.

“Great,” she says.

Curses.

She’ll have to up her flirting if she wants Delphine to realize she wants to date her and she’s really only got tonight to act. If Delphine really is straight, she’s wasting her time, but her only other option is Tom, so Delphine it is.

“Who are you marrying?” Cosima jokes, gesturing towards the bouquet Delphine is clutching delicately in her fist. 

“Hm? No one,” she sets them down next to the punch, pulling her hand away slowly as if someone is going to yell at her for abandoning them momentarily, “I just broke up with someone, actually.”

“Oh,” Cosima coos, “bummer drag man.”

Delphine squints at this, searching her brain for any clue to what Cosima has said; coming up with nothing, she nods anyway.

“You gotta get on that date thing,” Cosima continues, “weddings are a great place to pick people up. Let’s see- who have you spoken to since you’ve been here?”

“Tom-” Delphine starts, before Cosima interrupts her with a vehement waving of hands.

“No, no, no,” Cosima says, “he’s out, just trust me. Who else?”

“Felix,” Delphine says, making a face to indicate that she understands the roadblock there, “Cal and Sarah of course, some people that pointed me to seats… but I didn’t catch their names. That’s it.”

“And me,” Cosima pouts.

“And you,” Delphine laughs.

“Well,” Cosima declares, “We’ll have to figure something out; come with me.”  
She grabs Delphine’s flowers and heads for the door that leads outside, stopped after a moment by Delphine’s grasp on her elbow.

“I thought we were on punch duty,” she explains, glancing back to the table four feet away as if some unsuspecting child will have already poured themselves a glass of the spiked drink.

“Oh, uh,” Cosima shrugs, “if anything happens, it’s a fun story, huh?”  
One look at Delphine confirms that that isn’t going to cut it.

“Kidding,” Cosima says, waving Delphine over as she speedwalks towards Sarah, "Hey! Felix spiked the punch.”

Sarah groans, but does not look surprised, “I’m gonna kill him. Thanks, Cos.”

She looks towards the punch table, then to Kira, who is flopped onto Alison’s lap as she speaks with the man himself, red liquid swirling inside the glass in his hand as he swishes his wrist in smooth, circular movements. Felix catches her eye and winks.

“Ugh,” Sarah huffs, “Oh and Hi Delphine, hope you’re having a nice time.”  
She makes a face at Cosima that is met with a squint. Whatever message they hope to communicate seems to be received despite the lack of actual words and Sarah shrugs before heading over to join her daughter.

Cosima turns toward Delphine with a smile on her face; Delphine with the gorgeous eyes and brilliant smile, with the wonderful curls that have only barely depleted in bounciness during the hours spent at the wedding, with the funny little look she gets on her face every time she looks at the flowers Sarah tossed her earlier. She’s wearing it now, gaze fixed at Cosima’s chest, where the brunette is holding them. Delphine’s gaze travels up after a moment and her expression grows thoughtful.

“Where to?” she asks.

—-

Cosima is a delight. Additionally, she is one of the most peculiar people Delphine has ever met, but it does not seem to take away from her charm. 

Sometimes it takes quite a bit of effort to converse with her, as Cosima’s vocabulary tends to range from intelligent speech to what must be slang, a lot of which Delphine has never heard. Most people, upon hearing her accent, tend to dumb down their words, choosing easier sentences with the incorrect assumption that Delphine wouldn’t be able to understand them otherwise; Cosima makes no such effort. She has had to ask a couple times, while they lean against the balcony outside, what Cosima means. The shorter woman explains, without patronizing her, with no thought to change the way she is speaking. Delphine loves it; she could talk to Cosima forever, she thinks.

It’s a bit chilly on the balcony, in her dress, and it’s far too dark to see what kind of resembles a great view, particularly with the strong lighting coming from the windows behind them. It’s nice, though, anyway. Some rock song can be heard faintly from inside, but without the buzz of people that was audible from the punch table. She inches closer to Cosima, to capture some of the warmth that seems to be rolling off of the woman in waves, capturing her arm and pulling it close. Cosima tenses up for a moment before leaning further into Delphine’s touch.

“Cold?” She asks; her voice is quiet, though she’s not whispering.

“Oui,” Delphine replies, stepping in as Cosima turns and accidentally pinning the smaller woman between herself and the balcony railing.

It’s warmer, for sure, though as her breath catches in her throat Delphine thinks it may be for more reasons than one. Cosima’s upper back is bent somewhat over the balcony and one hand has been relocated to the rail to steady herself; although there is no actual chance of her tumbling over, Delphine cannot resist the urge to snake a hand around to her shoulder blades and gently pull her closer, until all of her body is on the same side of the rail.

In the moment that follows, she finds it hard to tell if Cosima has misinterpreted the situation completely, or if she merely has more insight than Delphine. The hand not still clutching the rail moves across Delphine’s shoulder, resting gently behind her neck. She pushes herself onto her tippie toes, pulling Delphine down into the kiss that she cannot quite reach due to the blonde’s high heels and long legs. It lasts for only a moment before Delphine pulls her hand away from Cosima’s back, stepping back so that there is over a foot between them. Cosima drops down onto her heels, which are only marginally taller than flats, and leans against the cold bar behind her.  
Delphine is not quite sure what to say. Cosima making a pass at her was the last thing she expected.

“I-I’m sorry,” she says, stepping further backwards, toward the glass sliding doors, “it’s okay. I’ll see you later?”

Delphine pivots and slides the door open quickly- which is no small feat, as it turns out- and leaves Cosima on the balcony, the open door playing one of Cal’s jams, softer and less hardcore than the rock pieces that were on previously. 

Her feet carry her away, towards the bathroom, as thoughts swirl through her head.  
She just needs a moment to think, she tells herself; she is not running away.

—-

Cosima can feel her body temperature lowering by what must be whole degrees as she leans against the freezing railing, a light, unwanted breeze ruffling the ridiculous pieces of fabric on her too-pink dress that she had quite forgotten she was wearing.

Her hand twitches towards her face as the world blurs for a moment, before Cosima realizes she still has her eyes focused on the half-open glass door. She looks past it, to the figure staring at her across the room, and black and white come into focus. Cal has his back to her, but Sarah is staring at Cosima over his shoulder. His head is turned just enough to look at Cosima without embarrassing her too much by looking directly at her, and she realizes that Sarah has stopped their slow dance. Cosima waves, weakly, before turning away, towards the nice view that she can’t see.

It’s back in there or trapped outside in the cold. Cosima wishes there was a way to get to a third location without going through the party inside. She thinks of climbing over the balcony, but her heart jumps in her chest a little despite having no true intentions to do so.  
After a couple minutes of staring out at the dark sky, illuminated by nothing but a few faint stars, Cosima decides to head in.

She doesn’t realize she’s still holding the flowers until she takes her hands off of the rail. They lost a few petals over the edge at some point, but they’re still pretty.  
Cosima’s tempted to chuck them over the edge. 

She can’t of course- they’re not hers. She can’t leave them there, she can’t leave them inside, she can’t give them to Delphine or somebody else. Cosima is stuck with the damn flowers, unsure of what to do.

“Those are mine, I think.”

Delphine looks abashed, at least. It only makes Cosima more embarrassed.  
She thrusts the flowers into Delphine’s hands, making eye contact.

“Uh, sorry about…” Cosima apologizes, “I have this thing for- uhm- jumping to conclusions, apparently.”

“No, no,” Delphine assures her, crushing the poor flowers’ stems a little; the ribbon they’re wrapped in begins to unwind, “It’s just that I’ve never-”

“Yeah- you- you’re not gay. I understand.”

Delphine nods, before stepping in and grabbing Cosima’s face in both hands, leaning in to account for their height difference.

Well.

The ribbon tickles her face a bit and she’s probably going to have flower petals in her hair, but Delphine is a damn good kisser.

“I’m so sorry,” Delphine murmurs, as Cosima drops back onto her heels, fingers still woven in the cloth tied around Delphine’s waist, where they found themselves during the kiss, “I panicked a little.”

“Was it the dress?” Cosima whispers, killing the moment in the most delightful way, “it’s too pink, isn’t it?”

“Not too pink,” Delphine laughs, “it was the ruffles that got me.”

“Ah,” Cosima tsks.

She takes Delphine’s hands in her own as the music inside none-too-subtly changes, rather abruptly, from a Clash track to a slow song.

Felix gives her a thumbs up from the hijacked DJ table as Delphine pulls her close for a dance.


End file.
